


Weakness; Determination.

by Burnadette_dpdl



Category: Interview With the Vampire (1994), Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:53:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5279222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burnadette_dpdl/pseuds/Burnadette_dpdl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How well did Lestat really take it when Louis refused to help him in his hour of need? Fortunately, David is there to help pick up the pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weakness; Determination.

**Author's Note:**

> Two prompts used: feast, thankful. Takes place during Tale of the Body Theif.

What hurt more than his betrayal was my weakness. In comparison to his strength, of course. The last time I had been so was the night he unintentionally baptized me in the goddam _swamp_. And then left me there to fucking _soak_  in all the unholy water.

David's holding me now with his rather muscular arms, voice in consoling tones, and I'm sobbing and shaking. My eyes squeezed shut because everything about me offends me. The sunlight streaming into the room is a mockery. I would kill every singing bird in a six mile radius. Recounting for David again - as I have for the past hour - what it was like to find my own fledgling as immovable physically as much as he was morally.

That hard flesh that I created, only the clothing vulnerable to my clutching hands as I desperately clung to him in his wholly insincere embrace. I had tucked my face into the crook of his neck, a tender place I had so often found my feast. Of his scent, the rumble of his voice, and of course, the divine offering of his blood.

I could smell little of what I would have. The trace of his victims that night, the flowers he might have wandered near. I held tighter to Louis, searching for aromas I couldn't experience, little sounds there must be of his hair swaying as the night gasped at his indifference. Could he tell that that's what I was doing when he forced me backwards, at arms length?

"Shhhh, Lestat," David was rubbing my back in irritating and yet comforting circles. I was admittedly thankful for this attention, but I felt the fabric of my t-shirt bunching awkwardly. "Perhaps he was truly trying to protect you from himself. Perhaps he loves you too much to-"

"Damn him." I choked out, not caring that I was now rubbing my snot and tear-slicked face on his robe. "Damn him to the deepest pit of Hell." I straightened up and motioned David away.

"We're going to win this thing, David, and then I'll send him there myself."


End file.
